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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25411168">To Never Forget</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackerooooons/pseuds/Mackerooooons'>Mackerooooons</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adoption, Angst, Bonding, Flashbacks, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnap Dads, Never startle someone having a flashback, PTSD is no joke guys, Parents, Past Torture, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, based on non-fiction, child endangerment, it's almost really bad, memorial piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:14:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25411168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackerooooons/pseuds/Mackerooooons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Elrond and Elros knew that Maedhros was hurt. They didn't know how badly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elrond Peredhel &amp; Elros Tar-Minyatur, Elrond Peredhel &amp; Elros Tar-Minyatur &amp; Maedhros | Maitimo, Maedhros | Maitimo &amp; Maglor | Makalaurë</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Who and Why</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The actual story will be in chapter two onward. Please read this though, it's important.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It feels weird giving real people fictional aliases. But privacy calls!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Okay guys. So, a bit of backstory. I had a dear friend, a vet and chaplain in the Civil Air Patrol. Sweetest guy in the world. He was a medic in Vietnam. </p><p>We'll call him Chaplain Elrond.</p><p>Chaplain Elrond married a relative of his lieutenant's. He had twin sons and a daughter, who married his best buddy's son. We'll call his buddy Colonel Elros. For obvious reasons. </p><p>Anyway, Chaplain Elrond and Colonel Elros served together under a lieutenant, Lt Maedhros. (You'll find out later) </p><p>So a few years back, Chaplain Elrond was teaching the routine class on character development, particularly about "bouncing back." He told a story about his lieutenant, who was taken as a POW by the North Vietnamese. Yeah. Considering his rank, it was a wonder he survived. One of the things they did to him was tying his arms behind his back and hanging him by them. They went without blood for a deathly long time. Both arms had to be amputated below the elbow after they got him out. </p><p>He came back to a nation that hated him for fighting, for what he was tortured for.</p><p>He was in a bad place. Chaplain Elrond and Col Elros (both discharged corporals at the time) took care of him when the bit of family that Lt Maedhros had couldn't help. They shared an apartment, and got him what help they could.</p><p>He remarkably recovered well, but occasionally had a nasty flashback. During those, he'd speak in a garbled mess of English and Vietnamese. He didn't sleep in a bed for the rest of his life, because of what happened to him when he wasn't on the floor. He'd strike out at people when he middle of a flashback and apologise for weeks after he realised. </p><p>So yeah, it was bad. But like I said, he eventually recovered, and died a happy man at 81 years old. </p><p>Chaplain Elrond told lots of stories of him. He wanted to keep his memory alive, and he did through us cadets. </p><p>One such story is what this fanfiction is based on. </p><p>Chaplain Elrond knew I called him Chaplain Elrond. He was a Tolkien fan since he was a boy, and so was his father. We'd talk about parallels together. </p><p>He passed on a little while ago, and I wrote a lot in honour of him. Most pieces were more personal, but I shared this particular one with his granddaughter, and she said it seemed like a "grandpa flavoured fanfiction", and said I should publish it. So I went to Chaplain Elrond's daughter and said that he'd have loved it to be published, but said that I shouldn't include the names of the real people for privacy purposes. </p><p>So here I am. Publishing a memorial piece as a Silm fic.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Scars of the Heart, Wounds of the Mind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In honour Chaplain Elrond, Colonel Elros, and Lieutenant Maedhros, who inspired this story with their own. </p><p>May they never be truly forgotten.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Are you awake?"</p><p>Elrond rolled over. Elros was blinking at him from the other side of the room. The fire was all but gone, and Elrond couldn't feel his toes. It was their first winter in Amon Ereb, and he wasn't enjoying it. He didn't know how his new father had survived in Himring. Yes, he was very awake.</p><p>Elrond shivered. "I am. It's too cold to sleep. I might not wake up!" </p><p>Elros crawled out of bed and joined his brother. "Share heat."</p><p>The twins curled into each other. Elrond jumped each Elros' icicle toes touched his leg. They waited a while, but not much changed. The air was too wet for the blankets to do much good.</p><p>"Do you want to build the fire?"</p><p>Elros scoffed. "If I get out of bed I'll freeze solid. But we need more heat than you can give."</p><p>"Well I'm not building it. You go!"</p><p>"No! I just said I'll freeze! I got out to get in with you; I'm not going to get out again!"</p><p>"Well I'm not going either." Elrond thought a minute. "I'll bet that Mag--  Atto, I mean, has more heat than we do. Let's go sleep with him."</p><p>"But he's on the end of the hall. Atya is closer. We've never bothered him at night before, but if we wait, we'll freeze for sure. Come on."</p><p>Elros led the way out of bed and out the door. Elrond followed, wrapped in blankets, gasping as his feet touched the stone. Elros reached up on his toes to pull a torch from the wall and warmed his hands before making his way to Maedhros' room. </p><p>He opened the room with out knocking, and slipped in. Elrond followed. It was dark. The snow storm blocked any light from the stars, and the only fire was the torch that Elros had brought in. It was colder in here than it had been in their room!</p><p>Elrond ran to the bed, hopping from foot to foot. He reached out to feel where his father was, so he didn't sit on him. But he felt nothing. Maedhros was not in the bed. </p><p>A whisper from the corner.</p><p>Elrond whirled around, forgetting the cold. Elros was leaning over a curled figure in the corner of the room. It was Maedhros.</p><p>He was in a ball smaller than Elrond ever though the tall elf could be. His eyes were open but unfocused and glazed with terror. He was whispering a flow of hurried words, half in the old tongue and some horrible grating language, on and on. Elrond tried to place some of the Quenya. He wasn't very good yet, and each word was punctuated by a word in the awful tongue.</p><p>Lá, that was 'no.' Mecin was 'please,' he was sure. Pusta... pusta was 'stop.' Mecin again. Nehta ní... Elrond racked his brain. Ní was 'woman?' But in this context, no. Ní would be translated as 'me.' Nehta though...</p><p>A shiver ran down his spine. Nehta was 'slay.' Nehta ní - 'slay me.' Elrond's father just asked to be slain.</p><p>"Atya?" Elrond whispered, afraid.</p><p>Elros seemed to have realised what was happening. "He's dreaming. Badly. I'm going to wake him up."</p><p>"I don't think--"</p><p>Elros stooped and shook Maedhros' shoulder. </p><p>The elf shot up and leapt on Elros like a cat upon prey. Before Elrond could react, Maedhros had pinned Elros down, pressing his stump against his mouth and wrapping his hand around the elfling's throat. Elros turned red and then white.</p><p>Time slowed, yet flashed by.</p><p>Elrond screamed.</p><p>It didn't do any good, and Elros' struggles were slowing. So Elrond did the only thing he could think of: he hit Maedhros in the ear as hard as he could muster. To his shock, Maedhros toppled Elros and pushed back into the corner, a whimper - an honest to Eru whimper - escaping his throat. But Elros still wasn't breathing and Elrond was screaming and Elros started turning blue and why wasn't he breathing he should be breathing breathe breathe please but a shadow bloomed in the doorway. </p><p>Maglor rushed in, kneeling at Elros' side. He shoved down on Elros' chest. Elros coughed, hacked, and started to cry. But he was breathing! Elrond began to cry as well, in sheer relief, and they both leaned into Maglor's arms. </p><p>"Maedhros."</p><p>Maedhros seemed to be waking from whatever dream he'd been having. He blinked in confusion, shivering on his knees. </p><p>Maglor looked at him sharply. "You are not in Angband. You are in Amon Ereb, and you just tried to strangle a child." His voice was cold.</p><p>Angband?! It can't be the same one. It couldn't be! And yet- that did explain the scars. He'd always assumed they where from battles, but no one else had that many. Angband though... Elrond curled more into Maglor's side.</p><p>Maedhros brought his hand up and pulled on his hair. "You did not warn them then. Do you not see?! I am a killer even in sleep!" He slowly folded over, pressing his forehead to the cold stone floor. His shoulders shook. "Take them." His voice was startlingly flat, despite his trembling frame. "Put them back in their chamber, and then find a new room for them in the morrow."</p><p>"Atya." Elros rasped. He reached out, just touching Maedhros' shoulder. The scarred elf recoiled.</p><p>"Leave me."</p><p>Elros turned back and buried his head into Maglor's tunic. Maglor picked up Elrond's blanket from the floor, and carried the elflings away. </p><p>He laid them both in Elrond's bed, and covered them with both of the blankets, and the extra sheets besides. He rekindled the fire in the grate, and stopped to kiss their foreheads. Elrond stopped him.</p><p>"Atto. What happened to him?"</p><p>Maglor looked down sadly. "He was taken by Morgoth many years ago. Sometimes he thinks he is still there. He did not think he hurt you. Some scars are inside, and heal no better. Especially those caused by the Enemy. He has arts which we know not." Maglor traced his hand over Elros' bruising throat. Elros shook and bit his lip. "I shall find some snow to relieve your bruises. Think no more of these things."</p><p>He stood, and slipped out of the room silently.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you angry at him, 'Ros?"</p><p>Elros shook his head. He rasped, "He was sorry for it, I could see that. And my anger would only hurt him more. He has hurt enough." </p><p>Elrond nodded. That he could have gone through so much and lived.... it was hardly a wonder that he was not fully healed. Elros reached for him.</p><p>The twins huddled together. Somehow the cold didn't seem as bad. There were far worse things, after all. They were asleep before Maglor returned.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Don't worry, it won't end there. I'll be back.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. All that's Fair, All that's Foul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Aaaand it's finally here! This thing has been avoiding me like.... Something that avoids people. Whatever. </p><p>I may not have mentioned this last time, but Elrond and Elros call Maedhros Atya and Maglor Atto. Because Quenya has two words for dad.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Elros had quite the bruise by morning. His entire neck was splotched with purple, in the rough shape of a hand. The snow-packed cloth had melted into his pillow, and now it was just a very wet cloth. Elros picked it up in disdain. "Are you sure this made it better? I feel soggy."</p><p>Elrond rolled his eyes. "Yes, it made it better. It'd be a lot worse without it. Maybe black instead of violet. Then you'd look part orc!"</p><p>Elros spluttered in indignation and slapped Elrond upside the head with the wet cloth. Elrond of course countered with his pillow. After a short but exhilarating battle, the boys sat side by side on the edge of the bed. </p><p>"Elrond, why do you think Atto told Atya that he wasn't in Angband? He couldn't have thought that he was. Could he?"</p><p>Elrond, still catching his breath, pulled his knees to his chest. "He didn't think he was here. And he was so afraid. And when I kicked him.... he whimpered, 'Ros. Like a scared child. I didn't think he could fear anything."</p><p>"Angband makes sense then. And it explains his scars, and his-- his hand, and his nightmare, and why he attacked me." Elros shivered. </p><p>"Are you afraid of him? Or angry?"</p><p>"Neither, not really. More angry for him. He's bad, we know almost more than anyone, but good too, and I love him, and he loves us in his own way. I hate that such awful things happen to anyone, no matter what he did."</p><p>Elrond nodded in contemplative approval. "You should tell him that at breakfast. Which we should make our way to, because Atto will probably not be happy if we are late again."</p><p>Sliding off the bed, Elros laughed sharply; the way Maedhros did. "You jest. He will be mad at us, there's no probably about it. Ai! This floor is ice! Watch that you don't lose your toes!"</p><p>Elrond followed his brother's example, hopping from foot to foot to keep the cold from seeping through his stockings. It wasn't hard for the brothers to decide what to wear. They didn't have many clothes, war was war after all, and each only had a couple warm tunics. Elros of course chose the undertunic with the highest neckline, a collar that went nearly to his chin. Both boys had surcoats lined with fur-- very costly, and they were emensely grateful. After wrapping their shins up to the knee in thick woollen leggings, they donned their "inside shoes" and went down to breakfast hand in hand.</p><p>Maglor greeted them sternly. "Sit. Elros, uncover your throat." </p><p>Luissalch, Amon Ereb's resedent cook, leaned past his lord to serve the twins their lumpy porridge. Elros wished he'd stay there, a buffer between father and son. But he didn't, and Maglor was still looking at him. Elros pouted, poking his porridge and pulled down his collar. He kept his eyes on the mooshy grain, but he could feel Maglor leaning in for a good look. </p><p>He hummed. "It does not look as bad as I had expected. The ice did you well. Can you speak without difficulty?"</p><p>Elros couldn't, but Maglor didn't have to know that. He kept his mouth shut. Maglor had, of course, seen that coming.</p><p>"Elrond. Can he?" </p><p>Elrond shook his head. "He's a bit raspy, and coughs sometimes." Traitor. Elros said as much.</p><p>Maglor worried his brows, leaning in to feel Elros' throat. "You seem to have a bit of swelling in or near your vocal chords. I'll get you some tea, and you won't be singing until it heals sufficiently." </p><p>Something which Elros was not disappointed about at all, not that he was about to say so. So he stuffed his mouth with porridge, humming his appreciation to Luissalch. </p><p>Elrond and Elros ate quickly, waiting in anticipation for Maedhros' arrival. But he didn't come, and soon the twins had to go attend their history lesson with Erestor. It was likely that Maedhros simply wasn't hungry and had skipped the morning meal. He and Maglor did that often enough, especially when food was more scarce. </p><p>So Elros resigned himself to waiting, accepted Maglor's tea with a "Thank you Atto" that didn't sound thankful in the slightest, and followed Elrond to the library. The tea was bitter and stuck to his tongue and coated his throat and Elros would drink every drop because Maglor would know.</p><p>After history and archery and lunch, and arithmetic which was taught by Maglor, the twins and would have linguistics with Maedhros. But they didn't. Maglor sent them to see if Luissalch needed help. </p><p>Luissalch didn't, and now they had nothing to do. There are only so many things you can do in a fortress in winter. </p><p>"Now what?" </p><p>Elros just thumped his head on his desk in response. He only wanted to learn linguistics. They were just starting the Khuzdul alphabet, Cirth, and it was so very interesting. But apparently Maedhros didn't want to teach today. It wasn't one of his Bad Days, so the only reason he could think was that it was over the rubbish last night. </p><p>Again, "Now what?"</p><p>Elros rolled his head on the desk and looked at his brother. I don't know. You don't happen to have any ideas yourself, do you?"</p><p>Elrond bit his thumbnail thoughtfully. It was a very man-ish trait apparently, and one of the few that Elros didn't have. Erestor thought it was quite odd. </p><p>"You could go and talk to him. He didn't come to lunch, and I think he's avoiding us. Just knock on his door."</p><p>Elros sat up like a bolt. "Of course! You're a genius." He dashed out the room. </p><p>Maedhros was right next door, though at the end of the hall. The twins had a west facing window, though Maedhros had a northern one. Elros didn't know why he would want a north facing window, but maybe he just liked to look at the múmak in the room, as the Men put it so well. So he walked the short distance to his father's room and rapped thrice.</p><p> </p><p>o0o0o0o0o</p><p> </p><p>Maedhros paced the length of his chamber, turned on his heel, and paced right back. He stopped a moment to glower at the Shadow in the North, but continued on. Turn around. Walk. Stop and glare. Walk. Turn. Walk. Glare. Walk. It was a pattern that was easy not to break. It stayed constant, didn't surprise him, didn't hurt him (not in any way that mattered. His throat was a little dry and his feet were a little sore, but he had felt far worse for far longer). </p><p>And then a tentative knock on the door. His first thought was that it was Curvo. But Curvo was Curufin. And dead. So it wasn't him. </p><p>It struck him. Elrond. Likely he was here to see about his captor's treatment towards Elros. Maedhros' stomach rolled in self-disgust. He looked out the window again. The Shadow seemed to smile, satisfied in the seeds it had planted in its greatest carrier of evil. He looked back away, still more revolted. </p><p>But he made no move toward the door. A danger he may be, but a cowardly one. He told himself that it would cause Elrond pain anyway. Best that he spare the child how he could. The lie sat in his chest, gnawing at his lungs and kicking against his ribs. He walked. Turned. Walked. Glared. Walked. </p><p>"Atya?"</p><p>He pressed hand and stump over his ears, shaking his head and walking, turning, walking, turning, walking, turning, walking. Footsteps receded. He kept going.</p><p> </p><p>o0o0o0o0o</p><p> </p><p>Elros slumped on the bed. "But why would he ignore me?"</p><p>Elrond sighed dramatically. "For the fourteenth time, I. Don't. Know. Maybe he doesn't want to have to talk about it. Maybe he thinks it'll scare you. Maybe it'll scare him! You'd have to ask him. But you'll have to wait till tomorrow because there's no tree next to his window." Elros perked up at that, and ran to the sill, a thought buzzing in his head. Oblivious, Elrond prattled on. "He's got to come out sometime though. You could ask Atto, but he'd surely not speak of it."</p><p>"Elrond. What if I just went in?"</p><p>Elrond scoffed. "There's no way he didn't lock the door after last night. You're cra--"</p><p>"Not through the door, you dwarf brain. Through the window!"</p><p>Elros opened the shutters. The sun was setting and the cold of night was just setting in. A puff of wind blew the snow off the window ledge. The ledge which ran along the outside wall and around the corner and became all the window ledges on the floor. Elros gestured to it. "This, my brother, is the pathway to victory!"</p><p>Elrond looked a bit skeptical. Okay, very skeptical.</p><p>"Come on, all I have to do is walk on the ledge, and into his window. He doesn't close it, remember? If he did at any point, he would have last night."</p><p>Elrond still wasn't convinced. "At least wait a bit more. Supper isn't in very long, and he'll surely show for that." </p><p>He didn't. Maglor, when asked about it, simply said that his brother likely wasn't hungry. But he hadn't eaten all day, and nobody bought that, not even Maglor. It was a tense, quiet meal, and everyone was at least a bit glad when it was over. </p><p>Elrond and Elros helped Glaeluin clear the table and wash the dishes, and then bid Maglor goodnight. </p><p>Back in their room, Elros opened the shutters again. Armed with a cloak, boots, and a mind of questions, he stepped onto the ledge. Elrond bit his thumb nail nervously. Elros looked back at him and grinned confidently. He inched to the left, and his brother was gone. </p><p>It suddenly seemed colder. There was only stone against his nose, and nothing behind or below or to either side. His heels hung over empty air and his hands grew numb against the stone wall. The wind pulled at him, and he wobbled precariously.</p><p>But he filled his mind with thoughts of stone, of mountains and sturdy hills, ropes holding and hands keeping.</p><p>He did not fall. 

Inch by inch he shuffled down the wall. Every so often he battled both mentally and physically against the winds. By the time he crossed the corner, the easiest part, he was exhausted. But he kept going. Finally his hand closed on the window frame in Maedhros' room. He pulled himself to it and looked inside. </p><p>His firey-haired father was sitting on the floor, back against the bed, knees against his chest. It was an almost child-like position.</p><p>He was apologising to a scrap of dirty gold ribbon. </p><p>Elros didn't even <i>want</i> to unpack that one yet. He cleared his throat. Maedhros shot up and stared at him in shock. "Elrond?!"</p><p>Elros shook his head.</p><p>"Elros then.... What in Eru's name are you doing?!"</p><p>Elros looked behind and down. "Uhm. May I come in?" He wasn't sure whether his question was heard over the wind, but a strong hand gripped his surcoat and pulled him neatly from the ledge. He looked up, up, up at Maedhros and grinned sheepishly. Suddenly the prepared speech fled from his mind, and he blinked confusedly. </p><p>Maedhros did not look impressed. "I asked you. What are you doing here?"</p><p>Elros took a deep breath and said, "Well see, I wanted to see you and you didn't come out of your room and you wouldn't open the door and Elrond mentioned your window and I thought about it and it's always open and there's that ledge thingy and I thought I could just come over that way please don't be mad at me." </p><p>"....You wanted to see me?"</p><p>So apparently only one statement in that entire explanation had stuck, and it was the first one. Elros huffed. "Yes."</p><p>"...But why?"</p><p>Elros really needed that speech right now. He mentally kicked himself. It didn't help.</p><p>Maedhros gathered himself, sitting on his feet to be level with Elros. His hands -- or rather, hand and stump -- sat in his lap. He looked at them rather than Elros. "I--" His voice broke. He cleared his throat, swallowed loudly and started again. "I tried to kill you yesterday." </p><p>Elros could only huff again. "You did not try to kill me. You tried to kill an orc. You just happened to think that I <i>was</i> that orc."</p><p>Maedhros' hand shot up with alarming speed and hooked a finger in Elros' collar. He wouldn't have been able to back away if he tried. Which he did, instinctively. Maedhros pulled down the collar and inspected the bruise with an unreadable expression. He released Elros and stared back at his lap. </p><p>"I should have known. I should have known it was you. You are so small. So very small." He shivered. </p><p>"It doesn't matter. You didn't know, and you couldn't have. You were asleep."</p><p>"And I should have warned you! I should not have let myself lax so." He raked a hand through his unkempt hair, pulling at the knots. "I am a killer; I am dangerous, have been since--" </p><p>He stopped himself. His hand dropped back to his lap, curling around the memory of a blade. He looked over Elros' shoulder north, then west through the wall.  His eyes lost focus, as if he didn't notice Elros at all. "Perhaps always. Perhaps I have always had this-- this beast in me, this killing force, perhaps the Oath or Gorthaur only awakened it, perhaps that is why Alqualondë was so easy, perhaps that is why I could never marry, perhaps everyone would be better off if I..." He trailed of into silence. He certainly did not notice Elros there. He shuddered.</p><p>"Atya." Maedhros snapped back to the present and shuddered at the name, but Elros plowed ahead. "Atya, you didn't know." He leaned forward and embraced his kneeling father. Maedhros stiffened in his grasp, whether from surprise or displeasure Elros didn't know. Or care, really. He pressed his cheek into his father's neck. </p><p>"Atya, bad things happened to you, and you did bad things. But they didn't make you bad. You can still do good things. You do them all the time, and people love you, Atya. I love you."</p><p>Maedhros shook in his grasp, and a drop of warm wetness met Elros' forehead. He threaded his little fingers into his father's hair, and Maedhros clutched at him, pulling him against his chest. His body trembled in silent sobs, and he held his son like a lifeline. </p><p>Maedhros wept, and for the first time in centuries felt at least a little better for doing so. </p><p>As they knelt together, truly together, the strong voice of an Oath-weary lord echoed through the halls, filling the air about them.</p><p><i>'Tis not in the high stars alone,<br/>
Nor in the cup of budding flowers,<br/>
Nor in the red-breast’s mellow tone,<br/>
Nor in the bow that smiles in showers.<br/>
But in the darkest, meanest things<br/>
There alway, alway something sings.</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Title and song are both from Dan Forrest's Alway Something Sings. The TTBB version has Maglor as a soloist, I swear. And it's just such a Maglor thing to write, I couldn't not include it.</p><p>This wasn't my favourite thing I've written, but it means a lot to me. Thank you all so much for your support!</p><p> </p><p>Also leggings, in the sense that I used them, are pieces of cloth or leather that were wrapped or tied around the lower leg. Poor people just used scraps of linen, but rich people would use something more talored. Anyway, they'd be used for warmth and/or to keep the trousers in place. The Anglo-Saxons used them in the early middle ages.</p><p> </p><p>Brownie points to anyone who can guess what Glaeluin means!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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